One Foot In The Shadows
by Mr Skrah and Mortis
Summary: The journeys of an Argonian assassin and his quirky band of companions as they travel throughout Skyrim, earning a living in the only way they know how. More about the adventures they have, rather than any one great quest they must complete. No Dragonborn, many OCs, eventual romance with Ysolda, possible other romances in the future. Summary doesn't really do the story justice...
1. Must Be A Bethesda Story

**Mr Skrah: ****Hello and welcome to the first story we're posting here. Mortis and I are both fans of Skyrim and found it to be an extremely enjoyable game. Mortis decided to start writing this story a while ago, but only recently have we polished it to an acceptable standard for publishing here.**

**The story follows Arrgos, who is based off of Mortis's actual character in his Skyrim game. Also, while the Dragonborn may be mentioned or even make a cameo appearance, they will never be a major character of this story. Mortis wants readers to be able to imagine this story taking place within their Skyrim world, with their Dragonborn slaying dragons and saving the world while Arrgos and his friends do their thing.**

**This first chapter is only a short intro, so please read and leave a review telling us what you think. Let us know if you like it and want more, or ask us a question if you're confused about anything and we'll get back to you. I have rated it as T, mainly because nothing in the story seems all that bad compared to some of the things I remember being exposed to as a teenager. But if you are offended by something and think the rating should be increased to M, just let me know and I'll change it straight away.**

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**Must Be A Bethesda Story…**

It was a cold winter's day in Skyrim, the ancient pines were covered in white snow and the ground was laden in it. Small animals scurried around in the peaceful silence as snow began to fall. A rabbit stood on its hind legs and raised its ears as the 'clopping' sound of hooves hitting the ground and the creaking of caravans as they drew near.

There was a sharp bump as the caravan hit a rock, jolting Arrgos awake. He looked up and looked around tiredly at his fellow captives, a Dark Elf and a Khajiit sitting next to him. The Dark Elf was tall and thin with short black hair, red eyes and a long clean face; his skin the colour of fresh ash. The Khajiit was shorter than Arrgos, but only by a little. He had light grey fur with black stripes and small white wisps at the ends of his feline-like ears. His left ear had three gold rings running up its length and his cat like face gave him a warm smile. Arrgos himself was a black scaled, young Argonian with a frill of red feathers sprouting from the back of his reptilian head. There were red streaks lancing across his face, and he had two piercing yellow eyes with three parallel scares under the left. His arms and chest had the odd scar here and there, standing out as a lighter shade than his black scales.

"Hey, you're awake!" said the Khajiit in a silky voice, with a welcoming grin on his face.

"What's there to be so happy about?" snarled the elf, "We're still going to Helgen."

The Khajiit laughed "Yes, well unlike you, Arrgos might give me some decent conversation." He winked at Arrgos, who, being awake now, just grinned.

"Well Harsten, my conversation skills may be fairly limited while my hands are bound." He said in his hissing, reptilian voice and held up his bound hands.

The Khajiit leaned in towards Arrgos and whispered "We'll be at Helgen in an hour or so..." he paused, then continued in a lower voice, "...any ideas?"

Arrgos gave their two guards at the front of the caravan a sidelong glance and thought for a moment. "Can you still use your claws?" he whispered back to Harsten, leaning back so that the Dark Elf wouldn't think anything was happening. Harsten hunched his shoulders and hid his hands between his legs. The downpour of snow was starting to thicken and Arrgos could hear the guards complaining.

"Why the hell do we have to take these prisoners all the way to Helgen?" one of them moaned. He could also hear the guards in the caravan in front of theirs, complaining about the cold and other misfortunes.

Arrgos and Harsten had been arrested after attempting to steal horses from a farmer in Ivarstead; their failed horse theft followed by a not-so-successful escape into the mountains where they had been cornered. They had taken a wrong turn and found themselves with a sheer cliff in front of them and about eight guards behind them. They both realised surrender was their best option, and so they were taken prisoner, and now a day later they were on their way to Helgen.

Arrgos cupped his hands together and peered at Harsten, trying to see if he was able to use his claws to cut through the ropes binding him. To his relief he saw that Harsten was almost half done already. Arrgos waited until Harsten had finished cutting all the way through, and noted he was still holding his hands together as if they were bound. Arrgos nodded his approval to the Khajiit, realising that the sleepy, bored guards wouldn't notice until it was too late.

_'Far, far too late...'_ Arrgos thought with a wicked grin. He conjured a small flame in his cupped hands, barely feeling the drain on his magicka as it burned. He was no mage, but he had a certain 'gift' with fiery destruction magic…


	2. Childhood

**Mr Skrah: Wow, people actually read the first chapter! I honestly thought we would get literally no interest. Anyways, this chapter is a bit longer than the first one. It provides some background to Arrgos and Harsten as well as an appearance by my personal favourite character (who Mortis may or may not have based off of me :P). Sadly, he doesn't get introduced properly for another few chapters.**

**The previous chapter's title was a reference to the fact that in every Bethesda game I've played (Oblivion, Skyrim and Fallout: New Vegas) you always start out as a prisoner of some sort. I like to make these little jokes to myself, even if no one else finds them funny. ;)**

**Even though we've had readers, there have been no reviews or comments yet. Hopefully this chapter will get some sort of response out of you guys (and girls)…  
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**Childhood**

When Arrgos was little and had moved with his family to Skyrim, settling in Rorikstead, he had accidently lit his father's shoulder on fire. After a few weeks and a few more accidents his parents had taken him to a mage to test his magical capabilities. The mage had said that it was rare for children to discover how to use magic at his age and that he had a surprisingly large magicka pool for someone so young and utterly inexperienced. His father, who was a dark green Argonian and a near mirror image of Arrgos, wasn't initially surprised by this. But when the mage explained the size in more relative terms, his father had been taken aback. The mage had also noticed that Arrgos had a much higher body temperature compared to normal Argonians, and seemed to be fairly resistant to fire. His mother, a Dark Elf, had wondered if this could have been passed on through her blood, as Dark Elves possess the very same resistance. The mage had replied that it was possible, but he couldn't know for sure. After departing from the mage, Arrgos and his family had gone home and from then on he had been treated slightly differently. Over the years he had reined in control of his powers and almost never used them; especially when someone other than his parents were around.

When Arrgos turned twelve, a new family had moved into Rorikstead. It had been another family of three. They had an eleven year old son who was a Khajiit, like his mother, although he seemed to have inherited his Nord father's resistance to Skyrim's freezing climate. Over the years they had become close friends, mostly due to the fact that the other Nord children never really included them because of their difference in race, but it didn't bother them. They would spar with sticks and explore the nearby mountains of The Reach and plains of Whiterun Hold when they could escape their parents. Harsten was a natural sneak and had taught Arrgos everything he knew about moving unseen, and in return Arrgos had taught Harsten how to fight with a sword. Arrgos's father had been a battle-mage back in his youth and had been known for his ability to keep a spell going for far longer than most other mages; hence why he hadn't initially been surprised when the mage had told him that Arrgos's reserve of mackiga was very large. Back then battle-mages were a rare sight indeed, and so Arrgos's father had been a formidable opponent, with his plentiful magicka and skill with a sword.

Arrgos's parents had grown a large garden of vegetables, which they traded with the Frostfruit Inn and the odd caravan that passed through Rorikstead. The rest were sent to Whiterun to be sold at the markets. His father had been asked to help teach some of the Hold's guards how to handle a sword, and had originally refused simply because he wanted to leave his past as a battle-mage behind him. But after much deliberation, and a few years, his father had agreed to train new recruits when they turned up. He did have one condition however: that his son and Harsten could train with them, as he knew he couldn't separate the two even if he had wanted to. So he, Arrgos and Harsten would trek out to Whiterun for a week or two every few months to train with the sword.

Once both Arrgos and Harsten had reached their early manhood, Arrgos had told Harsten about his gift with fire. Harsten, being a loyal friend, had promised never to tell anyone, including his parents. After that Harsten had wanted to give magic a try, and with the help of Arrgos he began reading up on magic, and had found that he could easily relate to Illusion based magic. The only problem was that Harsten didn't seem to have the power to use any sort of magic, no matter the school. They did all they could to figure out how to 'unlock' his power for a solid two years; they had even managed to break into the library of Solitude's court mage during a trip with Arrgos's father, who was being offered a job of training new recruits for the Imperial Legion. They would have been caught if Arrgos hadn't lit the mage's robes on fire. After that they practically gave up on the idea, but still kept their ears open. Arrgos's father also turned down the job offer, happy just to continue training the Whiterun guards due to Solitude being too far away for easy travel.

Half a year went by and a mage came to stay at the Frostfruit Inn. As soon as they heard about it, Arrgos and Harsten had made their excuses and rushed off to find him. When they found the mage he was sipping a cup of wine, sitting near the fire pit. They had approached him carefully until he had suddenly spun around and surprised them. The first thing that struck them was his height; he towered over both of them, taller than anyone they knew by at least a head. The more Arrgos looked at him, the more unsettled he became. He wore a long, hooded, dark purple robe edged in gold, along with some very expensive looking gloves and boots. Both Arrgos and Harsten's eyes were drawn to the gleaming gold rings on his fingers, covered in precious stones and engraved with strange symbols that neither of them wanted to even try and guess at what they might mean. There was also the glint of fine gold chains at the mage's neck, suggesting he also wore necklaces or amulets of some sort, but they were currently hidden beneath his robe. Looking directly at the robe, it was beautiful. The purple was mottled with different shades in a random yet enticing pattern and the gold edging gleamed like the sun. But it was when you looked at something else, when you could only see the robe out of the corner of your eye that Arrgos swore he could see the mottled pattern shifting and changing. When he snapped his eyes back to the robe it seemed to be perfectly normal, the pattern perfectly still. But he felt a weird feeling that the robe was mocking him somehow, and he would've sworn that the pattern had changed since he and Harsten had first walked in. '_That doesn't sound half crazy...'_ he thought with a small shake of his head. Unnoticed by anyone, the corners of the mage's mouth twitched up into a slight grin.

Meanwhile, Harsten was busy studying the mage's face. It was partially cast in shadow by the mage's hood, but from what he could see the face was very gaunt and thin. The skin was slightly tanned, but the difference between it and the pale skin of the Nords seemed enormous. '_No, not tanned,' _Harsten thought, _'yellowed seems a more appropriate term'_. He was clean shaven and no mark or scar marred his features. His hair came down past his ears and was a golden-brown colour, his eyebrows a little darker. Harsten noted the pointed ears and nose, realising the mage was an elf, and a High Elf from his appearance. The handsome facial features spoke of a young man, or mer in this case, but the eyes told a different story. They were shaped like almonds and the pupils had a deep, rich green colour to them. But looking into them, it was as if Harsten could actually see the ancient knowledge and wisdom they contained, the things that they had seen which the mage could not even begin to describe. He suppressed a small shudder as Arrgos introduced the two of them.

The mage didn't seem to mind them coming over to talk, even when Mralki the inn keeper had tried to chase them away, saying "Let the man drink in peace, he doesn't need two kids pestering him!"

But the old elf had just shook his head, chuckled and said "I don't mind the company and at least they are interested in magic, unlike most of the superstitious peasants in Skyrim." When Arrgos and Harsten had asked about how someone could unlock their magical potential, the mage had said that it was a thing that usually happened over time or when the person reached a certain age. Someone might suddenly find that they could freeze water or levitate objects with their mind. "The more technical explanation is a connection being made between mind and soul, allowing you to tap into your 'pool' of magika. The forging of this connection is basically random, occurring at different times for different people. For many it is never made, hence why the ability to wield magic is uncommon."

When Arrgos and Harsten said they understood and explained everything else that they knew about magic, the mage had commented dryly that they seemed just as knowledgeable as many of the students at the College of Winterhold. Harsten asked him if that was where he had been trained, and he shook his head with a sad smile. "The places where I learned the arts of Syrabane and Xarxes are long gone. I doubt there are half a dozen people in all of Nirn who could remember back to those times, let alone teach you the power that we studied, harnessed and wielded." he said with a far-away look in his eyes. After a few moments, the mage continued "No, no I didn't study at the College, but I did teach there for longer than both of your lifetimes put together. I left recently, foreseeing the return of some old… friends, of mine. Damn fools might actually be taking an active role for once…" muttering this last sentence almost to himself.

Harsten looked faintly embarrassed as Arrgos explained their problem to the mage. "Is there any way you could unlock his powers? Force the connection or something?" Arrgos asked politely.

The mage had raised one eyebrow at this, in a facial expression that would become very familiar to Arrgos and Harsten. "It is certainly possible, although very few mages other than me would know how. Firstly though, can I assume that you both know the dangers of magic as well as the benefits? It can be a very powerful tool in the right hands, but it is also not something to be used lightly."

They both nodded and Arrgos had said "It was actually one of the first things we read up on, mostly because the only book about magic we had at the time was a book on the dangers and abuse of it."

The corners of the mage's mouth slowly curved up into a small smile. He had resumed his seat by the fire, placing his empty cup on the floor, folded his hands in his lap and closed his eyes.

At first nothing happened; the mage just sat there, eyes closed, as if he was listening to the crackle of the fire. Then suddenly Arrgos heard a muffled 'thoom', like a single drumbeat echoing from a great distance away. He jumped and looking around he found, to his great surprise, that no one else in the inn appeared to have heard it. Harsten looked around with a smile, he wiggled his nose and whiskers saying quietly "I can feel it." Disturbingly for Arrgos, there was also a fading glow in his friend's eyes, although it quickly disappeared.

The mage opened his eyes and nodded towards Arrgos and Harsten. "Your powers are just like a muscle, the more you use them the stronger they will become. With training and practise you should be able to increase the size of your magicka reserves, allowing you to cast more spells for longer periods of time." They had both thanked the mage and promised to try and make it up to him one day, but he had shaken his head and waved them away "The only way you can thank me is to not get up to too much mischief and to be careful." They had both left the inn and gone out to test Harsten's new powers.


	3. The Great Escape

**Mr Skrah: Sorry about the delay for this chapter, people. Mortis has already written a fair bit of the story, I just have to find time to put them up. I blame it on uni being a bit hectic lately.**

**So here's chapter 3, "The Great Escape", named after the all-time classic war movie (the main theme is pretty damn catchy :P). Another of our main characters is introduced, but not named until later on. Yeah, I'm just noticing we seem to do that a fair bit…**

**Still no reviews. Come on people, let us know what you think of the story, it's not that hard. You don't even need an account to do it. :P**

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**The Great Escape!**

From then on Arrgos and Harsten had trained with their powers and practiced with the sword. Harsten had preferred daggers, but Arrgos's father had said quiet definitely that once you know how to use a sword properly you could adapt any other blade to your technique.

And now here they were years later, trying to escape from the Imperials for stealing a couple of horses. Arrgos focused his small flame into a concentrated burst that he used to cut his own ropes. He and Harsten were wearing little more than rags since the Imperials had taken away their leather armour, swords and other belongings. But neither of them were worried about that. They would just escape and then break into Helgen, where they knew they were going, and steal back their belongings.

Arrgos leaned over to the Dark Elf, "Hey what would you do to escape right now?" he whispered.

The Dark Elf looked up at him, "What are you talking about?" he said sharply. Arrgos nodded his head towards a forest at the foot of a mountain that they were about to pass. The elf turned his head and looked at the forest. "You've got to be kidding me..." He said under his breath, then he looked down at his hands, "We wouldn't last long in there like this." he whispered and he strained at his bonds slightly.

Arrgos gave him a toothy smile, showing his sharp, white teeth. "Don't you worry about that." he said and turned his head to look at the guard wagon "Just worry about running as fast as you can without tripping."

One of the guards looked around when he heard the prisoners behind him talking. "Be quiet you criminal scum!" he barked over his shoulder.

Arrgos laughed, "And you kiss your mother with those lips?" he asked. The guard turned around with the intention of punching him, but Arrgos got there first. He hit the guard straight between the eyes as Harsten looped his former bindings around the throat of the other. The guard that Arrgos had hit went down clutching his nose, blood dripping through his fingers, while the other guard's face had turned purple and he was just losing consciousness as the wagon in front of them came to a stop from the commotion. Arrgos, Harsten and the elf were already on their feet and running towards the forest as the rest of the guards started drawing their swords and nocking arrows.

Arrgos heard the 'whizz' of passing arrows as he ran through the trees. He saw arrows stick into trees in front of him and heard them impact behind him as he weaved his way through the forest. Harsten, being a Khajit, was a natural sprinter and was far ahead of him and the elf. But where Harsten was fast, Arrgos was strong and had endurance. The elf, who was in front of Arrgos, took an arrow to the back of the shoulder and fell with a cry, hitting his head on a rock. Arrgos leapt over him, skidded to a stop and went back as another arrow embedded itself into a tree next to him. He picked up the elf and slung him over his shoulder. The elf was surprisingly light for a mer of his size, and Arrgos turned back around and began running again, only slightly slowed from the extra weight. He could hear the guards were still following and the foot of the mountain was getting closer as he leapt over a fallen tree. Before he landed an arrow found its mark and stabbed into his upper arm. He fell to the ground with a grunt of pain and dropped the elf. Arrgos looked at his injured arm and snapped off half the arrow. There was a great gust of wind as something huge flew over the trees, sending the drifting white flakes into a flurry and causing the snow that had collected on the tree branches to fall to the ground in clumps. He winced at the pain in his arm and, seizing the moment, he brought both of his hands up in front of him, a ball of flame in each. He threw them towards the guards and then sprayed the surrounding area with flame, creating a wall of fire between him and his pursuers and blanketing the immediately vicinity with a thick cloud of steam.

Using his good arm, Arrgos shouldered the now unconscious elf and began running again. When he got to the foot of the mountain Harsten was waiting for him, perched on a ledge, with his cat tail drifting and flicking from side to side. "You took your time." he said and jumped down, landing in a crouch and then standing up. Arrgos lay the elf down and pulled out the arrow in his shoulder. Then he felt around until he found the remaining half an arrow sticking out of his own arm. The bleeding had stopped and the wound was already starting to scab and heal. The elf on the other hand, not having the quick healing Argonian histskin, was still bleeding.

"Harsten can you try and find me some blue mountain flowers, butterflies and frost mirriam while I carry the elf?"

Harsten nodded and hurried away with a parting comment of "So how am I meant to catch the butterflies without a net?" Arrgos just grunted and used his foot rags to stop the bleeding, then hoisted the elf onto his shoulder and started to climb the mountain.

It took them a while, but they finally got high enough to see their surroundings and even found a flat spot where they could work on the elf. Arrgos used his fire to warm an area of flat rock, which they then laid the elf upon. "You know it only just occurred to me that we don't know the elf's name." he said conversationally as he tore up some of the flowers Harsten had collected. Arrgos put some of the pieces in his mouth and chewed them into a blue green mush, then packed the mush into the elf's wound and covered it with frost mirriam. "That should speed up the healing process a bit." he said, as Harsten looked out over the valley that led to Helgen.

"Yes, well we still need to find a place to stay the night." There was a silence that was only broken when the wind blew, rattling some nearby trees and forcing snow into their faces.

They had travelled around the side of the mountain for what felt like hours, with the snow thickening around them by the minute. But eventually they found a cave that sheltered them from the wind and snow. As Arrgos stepped into the cave he caught the scent of rotting wood coming from further down. Having a quick look around the entrance he found some glowing mushrooms and added them to the elf's mix of healing herbs, while Harsten gathered whatever he could find to start a fire.

When there was a decent amount of wood piled up in the centre of the cave Arrgos lit it with a wave of his hand. They left the elf next to the fire and began to warm their own hands and feet. After a few minutes Harsten was content to just lean against the wall of the cave and dose. Between his fur and natural resistance to the cold he was fine. Arrgos was warmer but he had to keep his temperature up so that he wouldn't freeze, and seeming that he hadn't eaten in a while, he sat closer to the fire.

"Any idea what that thing was?" Arrgos asked, shivering; he sparked a small flame in either hand and rubbed his skin with them.

"I don't know," Harsten took a breath and shivered a little, "but it did look a little like the dragons from my dad's old stories."

Arrgos looked at him with curiosity, "I never heard those stories." he said.

There was a scuffling from deeper in the cave. Arrgos and Harsten both spun their heads towards the noise. There was nothing there. Harsten leant back against the wall and let out a long sigh, then said "We really need to stop getting ourselves into these positions."

"What, you want to go and start a family and settle down?" Arrgos laughed, the sides of his scaly mouth turning upwards in a grin. A moment or two passed before he spoke again. "We'll go down to Helgen tomorrow and grab our gear" he said quietly, "we'll head out to another town and find work, blend in and figure out what to do from there." He looked up at the ceiling, "I was thinking we might go to Falkreath for a while." When he looked back down at Harsten, he was asleep. Arrgos repositioned himself near the fire and threw another handful of twigs into it, to be consumed by the flames.

He was only just starting to nod off when he heard the scuffling noise again. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked down the cave. There was still nothing but darkness and the dank smell of rotting wood. A thought struck him. '_Rotting wood, not of natural sticks and logs that had probably made their way into the cave, and it would only be rotten if there was water...'_ Arrgos got to his feet and walked into the darker areas of the cave. He walked along until he felt his feet touch water; he saw a corpse wrapped in a thick net of white web lying next to a rotting wooden table and chair. He took a step back and caught his breath as, out of the corner of his eye, he saw two small frostbite spiders crawling along a wall towards him, making that scuffling sound.

They were about the size of a dog and had a dark green-brown carapace. Arrgos stayed stock still, waiting for the spiders to make a move towards him. They seemed to ignore him as they skittered towards the corpse and dragged it away, back deeper into the cave. He took a step back but caught the back of his foot on a thick strand of sticky web. He quickly looked down as he drew his foot up to try and dislodge the web. Just as quickly, Arrgos looked back at the two spiders. They had stopped and were looking around the cave for a hint of the disturbance. One of them reached out to another strand of web and tugged at it. Arrgos felt the web attached to his foot pull with the spider's tugging. "Damn." He said under his breath. He ripped his foot free, snapping the web, and started running back the way he had come. The spiders were starting to 'chitter' loudly as he ran.

"Frostbites!" Arrgos shouted as he came running back up towards the others. Harsten opened his eyes as Arrgos charged into the small cave throwing fire behind him. He heard a screech from further down the cave and two of the spiders came skittering out. Harsten leapt to his feet as Arrgos jumped back, tripped over their wood pile and sprayed the way he had come with a wall of fire. Arrgos felt the drain on his power as he kept the spiders at bay. He could keep the spell going for a long while but he still had his limits. Arrgos felt his power starting to run low, his mind was filled a familiar fuzzy sensation and he felt tired, not in his body, but in his soul. He ceased his flow of magic and the flames died.

Harsten saw one of the spiders make a move towards the Dark Elf and he dove on top of it, trying to catch a few of its legs. He managed to grab hold of four of them, but the creature struggled. Although he was not physically a strong man, he still managed to rip off three of the things legs and a few eyes out before it lay still. Another leapt onto him as he rolled over and he caught one of its legs in his hand, while using the other to keep its snapping, fang-filled maw away from his face. He turned and saw Arrgos fending off two more with a flaming log and bursts of fire from his hands. Harsten dug his claws into the hard lower abdomen of the spider and forced its leg up into its own mouth. Mucus, and what he suspected was poison, dripped onto his face and rags making his fur stick together in clumps. "Nah! Stupid insect." he hissed before digging his claws further into the spider and ripping out a section of its abdomen before pushing back into its soft inner organs. The spider shook and convulsed as it died. He pushed the spider off of himself and looked to see how Arrgos was going. One of the spiders had had its face smashed in and the other was burning to a pile of ash. Arrgos was sitting in a corner clutching his arm and muttering under his breath.

Harsten quickly moved to his friend's side "You alright?" he asked, worry evident in his voice.

"The damn thing bit me!" he growled as he removed his hand from his bleeding arm, "You'd think I'd hurt a different arm once in a while." He laughed through gritted teeth as Harsten took more glowing mushrooms and squeezed some of their juices onto his wound.

Harsten smiled, "You would think so, wouldn't you?"

He offered the squished mushroom to Arrgos who took it and held it up in front of his face, muttering "I hate these things." He put it in his mouth, chewed slightly and swallowed, shivering afterwards.

Arrgos picked himself up and shouldered the still unconscious elf. "We should leave before more show up." he said with a hiss of pain. He looked at his arm and felt a cold sensation run its length up and down. He blew on it, putting a hint of magic through his breath, and a small rush of flame ran along his arm. But it did nothing to fend off the cold that was spreading through his arm and into the rest of his body.


	4. Ruins of Helgen

**Mr Skrah: It's about time for another chapter, and so here is chapter 4. It'll also be hard for me to get up new chapters over the next month or two; I'm entering the second half of the uni semester, final exams and all that. I'll try my best though.**

**I'd like to thank BaconLogic for giving our first ever review! Mortis and I are both glad you're liking the story so far and hope you stick around with us for the long term. **

**The rest of you readers out there should also considering leaving some reviews. It helps us get a sense of whether you're interested and enjoying the story or not. We welcome any comments, questions, criticism or praise. :P**

**Mortis: I'd just like to add that I think I could've done this chapter quite a bit better. Gone into more detail about recovering the gear and fleshed the chapter out a bit, etc. Oh well, too late now…**

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**Ruins of Helgen**

They left the cave and started to make their way towards Helgen. They had to stop and hide from a couple of Imperial patrols, which was easy for Harsten who could just turn invisible, but Arrgos and the elf had more trouble. They were almost spotted once, but from a mixture luck and skill they avoided all the soldiers and made it to the side of a hill with a good view of Helgen. What they saw was nothing short of amazing. Helgen was a smoking ruin, burning wooden structures and charred corpses littered the ground along with collapsed walls and the odd blackened patches of earth. "What could do this?" asked Harsten. He looked up at Arrgos and back down as a troop of soldiers moved through the broken gate. They both took cover behind bushes and trees as the soldiers started looking around. "We'll have to leave the elf here. We'll go down grab our stuff if it survived and anything else that's useful." Harsten said quietly.

Arrgos peered through the bush he was hiding behind, "Ok, sounds like a plan." He dropped the Elf and untied his hands, then retied them behind a tree. "Let's go then." He added, with a toothy grin.

They began their decent, and under the cover of trees and the snow they made their way down to the ruins of the town. Arrgos was first to the wall, but Harsten was the first to start climbing. He kicked off the rags that covered his feet, got a hand hold on the wall, and started to climb. He got to the edge of the wall and took a peek over, checking if there were any sentries. There were none. He flipped himself over the wall and crawled towards the other side, looking down at the soldiers that he saw now, scurrying around for whatever purpose their commanders needed of them.

Arrgos and Harsten made their way around squads of soldiers and through the inside of the Keep. They found clothes and a few bags that they filled with supplies and weapons. Harsten found a bow and some arrows, along with a few daggers and a small supply of potions. Arrgos found himself a steel sword and the slightly charred box containing his and Harsten's gear. The lock had been broken, causing a small amount of the gear inside to get blackened with soot and ash. He took out and changed into his brown leather armour, boots, greaves and a black, red laced hood. Harsten had a similar getup, except his hood was cream coloured. They left most of the other gear they had collected except their packs and a few things for the Dark Elf. More Imperial troops had turned up while they had been getting into their gear, and so getting back out had been a little more difficult. But not by much.

When they arrived back to where they had left the elf, they found him awake, alert and looking slightly worried. Once he saw them he relaxed a little. "I thought you guys had left me to die!" he said, the panic is his voice quite apparent.

Arrgos rolled his eyes under his hood, "We didn't leave you and we don't plan to. Yet." They stood in front of him for a while.

The elf shuffled impatiently. "So are you guys going let me go or not?" he asked.

Arrgos shrugged, went over and cut the elf's hands free, then threw him some clothes and armour. "Put them on or you'll freeze." he said without looking at the elf. He then turned to Harsten, "We need to get out of here and find some place to rest and resupply."

Harsten nodded "I was thinking Falkreath." Arrgos gave him a look. "What? Its close by, there's an inn and the last time we were there was a year ago and we helped stop that bandit raid."

Arrgos shrugged and put his hands out to either side "Why not. Falkreath it is."

The Dark Elf had just finished putting on his armour and one of his boots when he stopped. "Falkreath?"

Arrgos sighed, "Yes, we are going to Falkreath, is there a problem?"

The Dark Elf stood up and rubbed the back of his neck "Well ya. You see I was caught stealing supplies down there once and the people there never quite liked me after that. Might even see a few of the wanted posters still around..."

Arrgos crossed his arms and put a hand to his forehead; he seemed to deflate. "Of all the bloody Elves…" he muttered under his breath. "So where does that leave us?" he said down into his crossed arms.

Harsten hesitated for a few seconds, but then said quietly, "We… we could go to Rorikstead."

Arrgos looked up quickly and the elf shrugged, saying "Sure, haven't been there in a while."

Arrgos seemed to shrink as he replied "I don't think that's such a good idea." he glanced at Harsten, "Bad memories, and someone may recognise us." At that thought a face came to mind, but he stuffed it to the back of head. _'The one person who I could stand knowing who I was.'_

Harsten shrugged and scratched idly at his armour "Ya, didn't think it was going to be a good idea..." He put a hand to the back of his neck and turned, looking out over the land and down at Helgen. "The only problem is there's nowhere else for us to go that's safe, and the snow is only getting thicker."

The elf shivered "Don't have to remind me."

Harsten's head drooped, "We don't have much of a choice at the moment Arrgos, and the memories aren't only painful for you." He put both hands on his hips and pulled at his armour "So Rorikstead it is."


	5. An Old Friend Returns

**Mr Skrah: I've had a bit of a lull in my uni stuff, so here's another chapter for you guys. Here you finally learn the names of the two previously unnamed main characters, including my personal favourite!**

**A thank you to the Guest reviewer on 20th September. We're glad you are also enjoying the story and hope you continue to do so. Though if you leave any further reviews, maybe choose a proper name so we can address you more directly in the future. :)**

**As always people, more reviews, comments, questions and criticisms are always welcome. The story will continue regardless, but they make us feel good inside. :P**

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**An Old Friend Returns**

Arrgos, Harsten and the elf, who had introduced himself as Orean Lockdancer, made their way through the mountains to avoid Imperial patrols and the increasing amount of soldiers that were moving around these days, due to the war and all. When they were a few hours away from Rorikstead they stopped for a small breather, and to plan how to enter the place without raising too much suspicion or letting anyone recognise them.

Eventually they settled on Arrgos and Harsten going around the village and then coming in from the other direction while Orean was going to go straight there and get them a room at the inn. When Arrgos and Harsten arrived they would do their best to blend in and find work until they could move on and eventually get to Markarth. There they could try and get jobs that would last longer than their usual mercenary work; Orean had even offered to join them.

Orean packed up his things and left when Arrgos and Harsten were sparring. A few hours passed before they also packed up, heading up north before turning west towards the road that led to Rorikstead. They unpacked thick black cloaks as the weather took a turn for the worst, and although the cold wasn't as bad for them as it was for the odd traveller they passed, it still bit deep. Arrgos busied himself as they walked, conjuring small flames in his hands and trying to shape them into patterns, runes, words and other designs. Harsten just kept quiet and walked.

It was dark and the snow was falling thicker than ever when they arrived at the Frostfruit Inn. They stepped through door, into the fire-lit common room, and immediately attracted many stares. The people were obviously not used to hooded strangers. The place was also busier than it should have been. _'Maybe a group of travellers had arrived...'_ Arrgos wondered. He also noticed that old Mralki was still the inn keeper. As they sat at an empty table a young Nord with a familiar face looked over at them with a hopeful expression and went to get up, but at a look from the inn keeper, he sat back down, disappointment showing on his face. Eventually they both ordered mead and meat, but as they sat back down at their table a High Elf in a strange purple mage's robe took a seat opposite them.

"Well if it isn't little Arrgos and Harsten." He said quietly, and they both looked up with surprise. "Yes, I almost didn't recognise you two; you've both gotten older and wiser, but your... auras, have remained unchanged." The elf added as he took a sip of wine from his goblet. Arrgos and Harsten both looked at each other and put their hands on their weapons. "Seriously...?" sighed the elf as he raised an eyebrow. Arrgos tried to slowly unsheathe his sword but found, to his great surprise, that it was stuck and would not budge no matter how hard he tugged. He glanced over at Harsten, who seemed to be having the same problem with his daggers. "Is that really how you treat an old friend?" The elf asked, taking another sip of wine and giving them a small grin.

"Do we know you?" Arrgos hissed, annoyed that this High Elf was interrupting his meal.

Harsten was quiet, taking in the elf's features and trying to figure out who he was. Definitely not a Thalmor, as he wasn't wearing their uniform. There was something familiar about the elf's face, and he was sure he'd seen that gold trimmed, deep purple robe somewhere before. _'Could be from the College of Winterhold.'_ Harsten thought to himself, trying to remember ever meeting this High Elf mage. The elf smiled and shook his head, as if he pitied their intelligence, just as Harsten figured it out. "You're the mage who unlocked my powers, in this very inn, all those years ago!" He exclaimed.

"Correct." The elf acknowledged with a nod.

Arrgos and Harsten quickly glanced at each other under their hoods, and then looked back to the elf. "What do want from us?" Harsten asked suspiciously.

"Oh, I just saw you two come in and thought I'd be polite and say hello." The High Elf said with an idle wave of his hand, then glanced at the bar and added "But I also wanted to mention your Dark Elf friend over there is quite drunk."

Arrgos put a hand to his forehead and moaned slightly, while Harsten just growled and looked around towards the front of the inn. Sure enough, Orean was sitting at the bar talking to a bald farmer with a large moustache, tankard of mead in one hand while he waved the other around in the air, illustrating whatever point he was making. "Has he let slip anything at all about us or our travel plans?" Arrgos asked in a low voice.

The High Elf just smiled. "Not to my knowledge. Last I heard they were discussing the merits of having a family. That farmer is a rather unpleasant and foolish man... although you two already know that." He said, a slight twinkle visible in his eyes. Arrgos and Harsten just grunted and looked down at the table.

Mralki brought their food over and left without comment, obviously not recognising them. The Argonian and Khajiit immediately began eating with great enthusiasm, while the High Elf just sat back and continued drinking his wine. After a few minutes Harsten asked "Y'know, we never did find out your name."

Arrgos had just finished his meat and was crunching down on the bone with his powerful jaws. The elf cocked his head to one side and Harsten winced slightly as the bone was crushed between his teeth. Arrgos noticed them looking at him. "What?" he asked, as his tongue licked a piece of marrow from the side of his mouth.

The other two gave him slightly bemused looks. "Even after all this time, I'm still not used to how easy it is for you to do that." said Harsten.

"Anyway, back to your question Harsten," the elf said after a few seconds, "I have had many names in the different tongues of men, mer, beastfolk and Et'Ada over the years. However, you may call me Yngir."

Arrgos dipped his head towards the elf, "Well you certainly use some very strange words and names, but it's good to meet you again Yngir."

The three sat and talked about news and rumours they'd heard, while Orean seemed to have passed out at the bar. At one point, the young Nord from earlier was serving nearby customers when Arrgos's name was mentioned. The boy froze for a second, but quickly left and continued with his work. Eventually Arrgos and Harsten hired out rooms for the night, and helped the barely conscious Orean to his. Before he entered his room, Arrgos noticed Yngir had disappeared. He scanned the main room of the inn, now much less busy than earlier, and noticed a hooded figure sitting in the dimmest corner of the inn. Arrgos nodded a goodnight and, to his amusement, received a mock toast from the shadows in response. _'That elf really loves his wine.'_ Arrgos thought with a grin and shake of his head as he shut the door to his room.


	6. Bad Memories

**Mr Skrah: I really wanted to get this chapter up on 5****th**** November (one of my favourite days of the year :P), but exam preparation and studying got in the way. Not that it really has anything at all to do with Guy Fawkes or V for Vendetta and all that stuff…**

**Oh well. Thanks to the Guest reviewer on 7****th**** October, we're glad you stopped to check the story out and like it so far. It is a bit of a different idea, but that's what makes it more interesting in my opinion. Even though Skyrim is an open world game where you can make your character be whoever and do whatever you want, a lot of the fanfics are quite similar in plot. This is simply because most people choose to write about the Dragonborn, and there are only a limited (albeit large) number of quests within the game for the Dragonborn to complete.**

**So hopefully writing about a bunch of OC's provides a refreshing change and we can create new and interesting content for you people. That being said we will cover some quests from the game. I know that Mortis has written some stuff about the Dawnguard DLC quest line, which we're planning to release as a sequel.**

**Anyways, on with the story. Again, reviews are always appreciated.**

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**Bad Memories**

Arrgos woke early the next morning, put on his cloak and armour, and left the inn to have a walk around the small village. His hood was pulled securely down over his head so as not let people see his face, although he doubted anyone would recognise him. _'Maybe Rorik would.'_ He thought dimly.

The village was covered in a white blanket of snow, with furrows traced through it from where the guards had patrolled the previous night. Arrgos followed one of these trails back the way he and Harsten had come when they had entered the village. He took a left and created his own furrow down a hill and past a clump of jagged stones until he got to a flat area of land. He knelt down and cleared away some snow, revealing a small line of stones. Suddenly, memories came flooding back to him.

_He was sitting on his balcony watching a caravan go past and wondering why they were there. He remembered sparing with Harsten and his father in and around the garden patch; helping his mother tend to her garden; he and Harsten watching as the other Nord children played there games with only the odd glances up at them. Always different, always with no one but each other, them against the world._

He sat there for what felt like hours, but was probably only a few minutes, letting memory after memory run through his mind. He felt his eyes start to burn and a tear streaked down his cheek, quickly followed by more. The face pushed its way back into his mind, pale skin and soft features, a pair of kind blue eyes and a river of flowing, deep red hair. The only one who had ever shown him or Harsten any kindness, and his one regret.

He took a steadying breath, his arms and legs were cold and stiff, as a hand touched his shoulder. He reacted instantly, grabbing the hand and pulling it down while standing up, flipping its owner over Arrgos and onto their back. "What the…!" was all they managed to say before Arrgos twisted their arm and received a small whimper of pain. The Nord looked familiar, then Arrgos remembered the boy who had stood when they had entered the inn.

"Who are you?" he hissed, pressing his boot into the boy's shoulder.

The boy started to panic. "I-I'm…" he stammerd, "I'm Erik, son of Mralki. I just came outside, saw you kneeling here and thought something might be wrong, so I came to see if I could help." Arrgos let him go and shook his head. There was a sudden gust of wind that sent snowflakes zipping through the air and Arrgos's hood was blown down, revealing his face. "So it is you" Erik breathed as he picked himself up from the snow. Arrgos quickly pulled his hood back over his head as his feathers began to stand on end.

"What do you mean? I've never met you before." He said in a snarl.

Erik looked Arrgos in the eye and held the stare, "You're Arrgos Blood-Scale." Arrgos showed his teeth and hissed. "You're an adventurer, aren't you?" Erik demanded.

"No, I'm not an adventurer. I'm an assassin, a sword for hire." Arrgos hissed at him.

Erik took a step forwards. "And you're everything I wish I was!" he said.

Arrgos chuckled at that. "You don't want to be like me. People like me are made through loss, and you have everything to lose." He said darkly. There was silence for a few moments, "Get yourself some armour and a sword, walk to Solitude and if you make it there alive you'll see that adventuring is nothing like it is in the stories." He walked away, leaving the stunned Erik deep in thought.

Arrgos made his way through the small village to its graveyard and knelt by a set of two gravestones; he picked two blue Death Bell flowers from a nearby patch and laid one at the foot of each grave. He traced the names that had been carved into the cold, grey stone: Ram-Ku and Midave. He felt fresh tears begin to brim in his eyes, it had been years since he had seen his parent's graves, and the sight of them took him back to the day they had died.

_Arrgos had only just turned nineteen. He and Harsten had finished their chores and were making their way to the Reach to practice their magic. They had reached the foot of one of the usual hills they practiced on, when there was a cry from the village. They had hurried back and found that bandits were raiding Rorikstead; the guards were doing their best but there had been too many. Arrgos and Harsten had both seen their houses set alight by the bandits, so they had separated and rushed off to their respective homes. Both their fathers were helping the guards fend off the bandits and when Arrgos had gotten to his house he heard his mother scream. He burst through the door and a horrible sight had met his eyes._

_The table and chairs of their modest home were upturned, the windows were smashed and two Nords had his mother pinned to the wall, while a Dark Elf traced a dagger over her throat. "You're a traitor to your own people, marrying filth like that!" he spat in her face. She had seen Arrgos and shouted for him to run. "Ah, the filthy half-breed!" said the elf as he spun around and fixed his eyes on Arrgos. As the elf started to walk towards him, Arrgos quickly glanced around for his sword and noticed it was lying next to his bed, on the other side of the room. He realised had to somehow get past the elf to retrieve his sword, so he took a deep breath and ran at the elf._

_The elf tried to grab Arrgos, but Harsten had taught him the arts of avoidance well. He dropped and slid through the Dark Elf's legs, sprung back up and dove for his sword. Arrgos's hand tightened around the sheathe of the blade, and had started to pull it close so he could get a grasp on the hilt when he was tugged backwards by his ankle. The elf pulled him back and his sword with him. Arrgos grabbed the hilt and struck out at the Dark Elf's head, the blade still sheathed, but with enough force to draw blood and cause him to lose his grip on Arrgos. Arrgos then clumsily unsheathed the blade and made another swing at the elf, slicing into his left arm and shearing it off. The Elf screamed in pain and dropped his dagger to clutch at his stump of an arm, red blood seeping through his fingers to splatter on the wooden floor._

_Arrgos had gotten to his feet, still pointing the sword at the Elf, and stepped past him. He lit a small flame in the hand that wasn't holding the sword and let it leap up, before bringing it back down so that it covered his hand in fire. Both the bandits seemed to lose heart, but quickly regained their composure and pressed another dagger to his mother's throat. A stillness descended upon the house; no one wanted to make the first move. The noise of the fighting could still be heard from outside, but it was impossible to tell who was winning._

_Suddenly there was a fiery explosion behind Arrgos, as the door was blasted off of its hinges. Both the bandits and Arrgos backed away as Arrgos's father walked in, eyeing the bandits with absolute hatred. He stepped over the still whimpering form of the Dark Elf and advanced on the two Nords holding his wife. They had trembled as fire coated him from head to foot and Arrgos watched in awe as his father cut down the Nords in seconds. Once he was finished with his gruesome task he had let the flames disappear and held his wife in his arms, releieved that she was safe. But just as Arrgos began making his way over to them, an arrow had shot through a smashed window and buried itself in the back of his mother's neck. His father had cried out as he held her limp form in his arms, just repeating over and over "No, no, no, no!" as he had cradled her. Arrgos was struck numb and stood there, eyes wide and staring; his mind couldn't process what had just happened._

_The house was starting to come down and unnoticed by either Arrgos or his father, the Dark Elf had picked himself and his dagger up. Before anyone could react, the dagger had descended and stabbed into his father's back. His father had cried out in pain and joined his wife in the infinite void as the elf stabbed him again and again. Arrgos had just fallen to his knees, his mind blank, as burning rafters came crashing down around him. The elf left the dagger in his father's back and leapt past Arrgos and out a window. Arrgos simply sat there as the house continued burning, until Harsten had burst in, grabbed him and dragged him out just as the entire roof finally caved in._

Arrgos stood and, wiping the tears from his eyes, bowed slightly before saying "Rest well." He left the graveyard without a backwards glance and trudged back to the Frostfruit Inn. By the time he got there he was starting to feel better. Arrgos found Harsten, Orean and Yngir deep in conversation in the common room, and so pulled up a chair and joined them.


End file.
